who: dimitri. literal child of sleep himself. a dream. currently in a bad mood.
open to: mutuals who wanna play in his world (gender doesn't matter here, 'family' welcome), men and male identifying persons
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"Yeah, sure, just make yourself at home. Couldn't sleep anyway." The bitterness in his voice said that was the real problem, not that the other had just come right in. Of all things, he couldn't sleep. Karma, he supposed. Sleep was an integral part of who he was and for the last few nights it escaped him entirely. Not once in his life had he ever had this problem and it was really starting to get under his skin. "Unless you know some sneaky trick to knock me out."
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Gonna start posting my Bloom of the Sun chapters on here !! (A Greek mythology re-telling of the Apollo & Hyacinthus myth !!)
Chapter Zero
My back is pointed towards the tall tree as I effortlessly play my golden lyre. I suddenly stop when I see a lean boy almost float towards me, his assortment of tight and loose curls bouncing with each step. He sits down, one leg over the other and tilts his head with curiosity.
“Go on!” He encourages me.
I stare at him blankly
“Please? You’re really good” He gives a big grin, which makes me intrigued.
I let out a warm smile and wave him closer. He sits beside me and I take his hand in mine. I overlap my hands over his which has the contrast like a cloud on dirt. His hands have calluses and scruff spotted on them, which made me thirst for more knowledge about this boy.
I start to play a simple song as I guide his hands through each note. His hands are the slightest bit shaky, but I continue through.
“It’s like a map. The strings are the locations while your hands are yourself. Just think of the notes as directions, and you follow them to get a pleasant sound. That is all it is.” I say, in hopes that would calm his nerves.
“I’m not much of a musician.” He admits as his hands find a way to his knees which are now to his chest.
“Nonsense,” I counter. “Everyone is a musician, some just do not know how to express the melody they create.”
He giggles at my words and introduces himself.
“I’m Hyacinthus, you?” His deep brown eyes flutter when he says this, my heart does the same.
“Apollo” I say, not sure of his reaction.
“That’s why you are so good at the lyre?”
I laugh. “Yes, I can teach you”“You can? I mean, of course you can, but are you sure? That would take a lot of time, I’m not a very fast learner”
“I’m a patient teacher”
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Not human
The Minotaur was never half human, his mother is Pasiphae. She is an immortal being, the child of Helios and a water nymph.... worshiped once as an Ocular deity. So no, Minotaur ( named Asterion in truth) is not half human at all...
Medusa was never human, her parents were Phorcyus and Keto, two sea deities! Even in Ovid's version where she was assaulted by Poseiden. Which sort of explains the powers of her blood, all of her siblings are powerful monsters, her sister is Echidna, the wife if Typhon and mother of all earthly monsters from Ladon to Cerebus...
So... I might be writing stories with these are relevant parts...
Still thought this cool to share.
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Chapter One - Bloom of the Sun
His dark curls took me by storm. How, how could such a boy be that perfect? No, he was more than a boy, no boy was that perfect. He was considerably tall, no taller than I. His complexion reminded me of forest bark that had not been touched by light. His chestnut hair perfectly curved around his soft jaw and curled up from his neck. His personality mirrored that of a bee’s, striking yet curious, which evoked me with childlike wonder.
He looks at me and his lips draw up, a small smile. A smile that could bring me to my knees without hesitation. I start to snap out of my daydream, then I see his face, Thamyris. His red hair, and pasty white skin. His eyes frost with a green glaze. He stood taller than I. He is a lengthy and grown man, not worthy of Hyacinthus.
I can tell his eyes are filled with love for my Hyacinthus. Thamyris is a well-known musician, but more well-known than I? Never. My blood boiled at the thought of him coming close to Hyacinthus. My eyes fill with rage and I walk up to him without thinking.
“Hello, Thamyris.”
“Apollo, how is my favorite light god?”
“I am the only light god?”
“Yes, yes” He laughs, I grind my teeth.
“Thamyris, I have decided to hold a banquet for you to rejoice in your musical talent,” I say with false innocence, having no idea what I am thinking.
“A banquet you say? I shall be there.” He laughs.
“Great.”
“Will… Will he be there?” He asks, referring to Hyacinthus.
I pause. “Yes.”
“Good. I will see you later tonight then?”
“Yes, I suppose you will.”
I acknowledge him and walk off. Thamyris, the man not worth the boy.
I walk to see Hyacinthus. Perfect timing I say under my breath.
“Hm?” He smiles and giggles, his hair swaying in the wind.
“Sunflower, how are you?”
“Doing well, nothing new. Any news for you?”
“Yes actually,” I take a deep breath. “Hyacinthus… How would you like to accompany me to a banquet I’m hosting? Just a small one, will not last through the night.” I grab the cloth of my tunic, straightening it out.
He smiles once more. “I would love to. Who will be there?”
I take a breath of relief. “Anyone can come. I know Thamyris will be there, I am holding it for him.”
His smile fades.
“You are holding it for… Thamyris?”
“Yes, Hyacinthus, is that a problem?”
“No! No. It’s just that- Well you know how I feel about him.”
He is right. I do know. The way the fiery man lured Hyacinthus to his bed, and undressed him without his consent. A disgusting man, but not uncommon in Sparta.
I grab Hyacinthus’s cold, limp hand, and kiss his knuckle. I hold his hand to my chest, my tunic creasing around his soft hand.
“Trust me on this, I will not let him near you. I am throwing him a banquet for reasons I can not say just yet, but I promise, I do not like that man any more than you.”
“Alright, ‘Pello.” His eyes are stricken with worry, but I need him for this.
“Thank you, Sunflower. You won’t regret it.”
He walks off, and I feel guilty. Why am I feeling guilty? I vowed to protect him. I will make sure Thamyris never even glances in his direction again. It is the stars that swear to be there every night, they never break that promise and make even the darkest of nights bright, so, I won’t break mine either. Hyacinthus will never feel unsafe again.
Nothing more was to be said, so I walk away, a cloud of remorse forming above my head.
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